Book 13 - The Thirteen-Gun Salute

by Patrick O'Brian

  'No. Just a disagreeable little matter to clear up.' Killick and Ahmed came in, the one bearing a roly-poly pudding and the other a sauce-boat of custard. 'Killick,' said Jack, 'just jump round to the other side, will you: my compliments, and will His Excellency be at leisure for a few minutes in half an hour.'

  Fox had never been liked in the Diane, but until Batavia he had given little active offence, while his secretary, Edwards, was positively esteemed, in a quiet way, by both officers and foremast hands. But since the envoy's behaviour at Prabang, his ignoring of the people belonging to the ship that had taken him there, his total indifference to their pleasure at the signing of the treaty, his treatment of the Marine guard—'airs and graces and all turn out to present arms every time the bugger puts his nose out of doors and not so much as a half bottle to drink the King's health even at the end when him and his friends was as pissed as Davy's sow'—and of the seamen who rowed him to and fro, this absence of liking had grown into strong reprobation. His suite, of course, and their servants, had been unpopular from the beginning; but they were only passengers, and of passengers, landsmen at that, nothing could be expected. The present dislike of Fox was on another plane altogether; it was personal, not directed against a class, and it was so marked that a man far more insensitive than Fox must be conscious of it.

  'You may say what you please,' said Jack, 'but I have eaten roly-poly within the Arctic Circle, damned nearly within the Antarctic, and now under the equator, and I am of opinion that it has not its equal.'

  'Except, perhaps, for spotted dog.'

  'Ah, you have a point there, Stephen.'

  They drank their coffee and presently Jack said, 'I hope to be back in five minutes.'

  He was not back in five minutes, and Stephen sat there by the pot—how the coffee retained its heat in this climate!—reflecting. He knew that last night some one of the mission had mounted to the dark quarterdeck, had approached Warren, the officer of the watch, just as the ship was wearing on to the larboard tack, had been intercepted by Reade, had cuffed the boy aside and had told Warren that he should make more sail, that the Captain would certainly wish it for the King's service, that this miserable pace was dawdling away precious time. But he hoped that Jack would not take the matter up before Fox had to some extent recovered from his present state of over-excitement: a foolish hope, perhaps, since a thing of this kind had to be taken up at once to prevent any recurrence (the offence in naval eyes was very grave) and since there were no signs of Fox's restless enthusiasm declining at all.

  As he listened to the indistinct but certainly angry voices on the other side of the thin bulkhead he reflected upon a whole variety of things, his mind relapsing into a contemplative after-dinner state in which it swam between dreaming and waking; and at one point he found himself recalling an eating house by the Four Courts—an extraordinarily clear detailed visual image of the place. He was sitting at the far end and he saw a man open the door, look at the long, crowded room (it was term-time), and, after a moment's hesitation, walk in with exaggerated nonchalance, his hands in his pockets and his hat on his head, taking one of the few vacant places not far from Stephen. There was nothing in any way remarkable about him except that he was ill at ease; he felt conspicuous, regretted it, and made himself more conspicuous still by sprawling in his chair with his legs stretched out. But soon it became apparent that he was an ill-conditioned fellow as well. On being shown the bill of fare he questioned the waiter about every other item: 'Was the mutton well hung? Had the parsnips no wood in their middle? Was it bullock's beef or cow's?' and eventually he called for colcannon, a cut off the sirloin and half a pint of sherry. By this time he was aware that he was an object of dislike and he ate his meal with deliberate coarseness, hunched there with his elbows on the table, fairly exuding hostility and defiance.

  'If this is my inner man providing me with an analogy,' he said, his mind moving into the present, 'I cannot congratulate him at all. He has left out the essential factor of triumph and intense excitement. The only valid aspect is the man's suspecting that he is unpopular and then going to great pains to make certain he is loathed.'

  Stephen had never liked or wholly trusted Fox, but until the actual signature of the treaty they had got along smoothly enough. During the negotiations, in which Stephen had enabled the envoy to outflank Duplessis again and again and in which, as Fox knew very well, he had acquired the support of a majority in the council, without which the execution of Abdul would have had no diplomatic effect, they had worked well together; and he had been touchingly grateful for Stephen's help in the matter of Ledward and Wray. But a kind of lasting drunkenness or exaltation had come upon him at the ceremony of signature, the consummation of their voyage; and since that moment he had treated Stephen very shabbily indeed.

  It was not only his inattention to his guest at that discreditable meal: it was a quantity of minor slights and an insistence upon his sole unaided personal success. And although even in the most unreserved flow of indiscretion during that interminable dinner Fox had not betrayed Stephen's real function, it was no very ungenerous reflection to suppose that this was because he meant to arrogate all the merit to himself. What would Raffles make of that? What would Raffles make of the present Fox? What would Blaine have to say to him?

  It was altogether a very strange state of affairs. Here was a man of real abilities, one who had despised the Old Buggers—had apologized for them—but who was now revelling in their company and their by no means delicate flattery. It was known that the governorship of Bencoolen would soon be vacant, and they all asserted that Fox must be the obvious choice. This pleased him, but it was a knighthood that Fox really longed for; he was convinced, or very nearly convinced, that his treaty would earn him one, and nothing could exceed his desire to get back to England for it as soon as conceivably possible. He even contemplated the extremely arduous overland journey.

  'There is some flaw there, some radical disturbance,' said Stephen. 'Was it always present? Should I have detected it? What is the prognosis?' He shook his head. 'I wish I could consult Dr Willis,' he said aloud.

  'Who is Dr Willis?' asked Jack, opening the door.

  'He was a man of great experience in disorders of the mind: he looked after the King in his first illness. He was kind to me when I was young, and if he were alive now I should importune him with my questions. May I ask any of you, or would that be untimely, indiscreet, improper?' He could see from Jack's face that the visit had not been pleasant, but he did not think that Fox, even with all his present glory and his elevated state of mind, was of such moral weight as to cause Jack Aubrey much uneasiness, and he was not surprised at the reply, 'Oh, it was a disagreeable little interview; I had thought it might be. But at least I believe the matter is dealt with—there will be no repetition.'

  Later, speaking in a disconnected, dissatisfied voice, he said, 'Why, I cannot tell, but this has been preparing ever since we left Pulo Prabang. Still, I had hoped to get through the next few days without a collision; it is so unpleasant to have bad blood aboard. I shall be heartily glad to be shot of them. Nutmeg of Consolation, maybe; Rose of Delight, perhaps; but Flower of Courtesy . . . the scrub. Apart from anything else I cannot play easy with ill-will just at hand—we have had no music since we sailed. Yet even with this wind we should reach our cruising-ground by something like noon tomorrow, and then it is only a week of going to and fro if Tom is not already there or has left no message, and then the couple of days' run to Batavia. Perhaps there will be news from home waiting for us there. Lord, how I should love to know how things are going.'

  'Oh so should I,' cried Stephen. 'Though it is not yet possible that there should be word of Diana and our daughter. Sometimes when I think of that little soul I grow quite lachrymose.'

  'A few months of roaring and bawling and swaddling-clothes will soon cure you of that. You have to be a woman to bear babies.'

  'So I have always understood,' said Stephen.

  'Oh very we
ll, Dr Humorous Droll: but there is also that damned uneasy talk about banks breaking that I should like to see denied.'

  And later still, when he was floating in the warm South China Sea by Stephen's skiff, his hair spreading like a mat of yellow seaweed, he said, 'I shall ask them to dinner for the day after tomorrow, in return for that remarkable feast. I do not wish to look pitiful; and I know what is due to his office.'

  'Jack, I beg you will watch your step, however. Fox is an extraordinarily revengeful man, and a lawyer; and if he can carry home any substantial grievance it may do you harm, in spite of your position. For a short while he is likely to have the ear of those in power.'

  'Oh, I shall not commit myself,' said Jack. 'I have seen too many post-captains, good seamen too, denied another ship for flying out under provocation.' The breeze had dropped entirely, as it often did for an hour before sunset, and the ship lay motionless. But the sun was not far from the rim of the sea; the breeze would return when it dipped; and Jack, calling upon Stephen to 'lay over, there,' heaved himself into the little boat, gliding his seventeen stone over the gunwale so that it remained just free of the surface.

  'I believe you once said you were taught Greek when you were a little boy,' said Stephen as he paddled gently towards the frigate.

  'To be sure I was taught it,' said Jack, laughing. 'Or rather I was attempted to be taught it, and with many a thump; but I cannot say I ever learnt it. Not beyond zeta, at all events.'

  'Well, I am no Grecian either, but I did get as far as upsilon; and there I met with the word hybris, which some writers use for insolent pride of strength or achievement, open unguarded triumph and exultation.'

  'Nothing more unlucky.'

  'Nor in a way more impious, which is perhaps close kin. Herod was probably guilty of hybris, before being eaten by worms.'

  'My old nurse—back astern, there. T'other oar. Look alive.'

  Jack's old nurse had had a capital remedy for worms, or rather against worms, but it was lost in the dismal collision, the rescuing of Maturin from the bottom of the boat, the recovery of his sculls. Jack, when he at last got there, was received at the gangway by Killick, screened by Richardson, Elliott, the young gentlemen and two quartermasters, and wrapped in a large towel. All hands knew perfectly well how the wind was blowing, and though utterly indifferent to his state themselves, they did not wish Fox and his Old Buggers to see their Captain mother-naked.

  After quarters that evening, when for the first time since the Sultan's visit the Diane's guns spoke out in earnest, achieving their three broadsides in a fairly creditable four minutes and twenty-three seconds, and after the bulkheads had been replaced, Jack said to his steward, 'Killick, I am asking His Excellency and the suite to dinner: not tomorrow, because I mean to spread out, but the day after. Five gentlemen, Mr Fielding, the Doctor and myself. You had better get the sherry and claret over the side, towing deep, right early; and let us have a fine blaze of silver. And I should like a word with my cook and Jemmy Ducks.'

  By a logic clear to all seafaring men, turtles came under the heading of poultry as far as their care and well-being were concerned, and Jemmy Ducks said that he had never seen a brisker nor so likely a creature than the larger of the two in his charge; the other seemed 'timid, rather bashful like'. As for the little Java geese, he had four prime birds, fairly yearning for the spit; and four birds would be plenty for eight gents with quite enough over for manners. The Captain's cook, a one-legged black man from Jamaica, said with a flashing smile that if there was one thing he really could send up to table fit for King George himself, it was a goose; and turtles of course came as natural to him as kiss my hand, he having been weaned on calipash and calipee.

  'That was very satisfactory,' said Jack. 'I should have been sorry to keep the matter hanging for any length of time.' And having written the invitation and sent it off he said, 'Since we cannot have our music, what do you say to a hand at piquet? It is years since we played.'

  'I should be very happy.'

  Happy in a sense, since he always, invariably, with the utmost regularity skinned Jack Aubrey, as he skinned most others at this game, and although the money was now of no significance, it was still a pleasure to see his point of five outdo Jack's by a single pip, his tierce major triumph over a tierce minor, and Jack's eagerly announced septième beaten down by the almost unheard-of huitième; yet in another sense unhappy—uneasy at the sight of all this luck slipping away in trivialities. For although there was skill in the game for sure, this kind of success was all luck; and if a man had only a given amount for his whole share, it was a shame to fritter away so much as a pugil.

  'What is a pugil?' asked Jack, to whom he had made this observation.

  'It is a physical term, a fair and just return for all your poops and garstrakes, and it means as much as you can pick up between your thumb and first two fingers: dried herbs and the like. Jesuits' bark, for example.'

  'I have always heard that a Jesuit's bark is worse than his bite,' said Jack, his blue eyes slits of mirth in his fine red face. 'Come in,' he called.

  It was Edwards, extremely unhappy. 'Good evening, gentlemen,' he said, and then, addressing Jack, 'His Excellency's compliments, sir, and would it be possible to diminish the noise on the forecastle? He finds it break in upon his work.'

  'Does he, indeed?' said Jack, cocking his ear forward. 'I am sorry to hear that.' This was the last dog watch, and the hands had been turned up to dance and sing: not that they needed any encouragement, not that they would not have danced and sung without the pipe, but the pipe made the whole thing legal, not to be checked for any ordinary reason. 'That must be Simmons's tromba marina,' he said, catching the distinctive note, a note that could scarcely be missed, an immensely loud deep brassy hoot marking the end of a measure in the dance and followed by a confused cheering and two more hoots. 'Have you ever seen a tromba marina, Mr Edwards?' he asked, to ease the young man's woe.

  'Never, sir.'

  'It is a very singular instrument, a kind of prism of three thin planks about a fathom long with a string stretched over a curious bridge—it is played with a bow, though you would never think so from the sound. If you would like to see one, go along forward with the midshipman. A carpenter's mate knocked it together the other day.' He rang his bell and to Seymour he said, 'My compliments to Mr Fielding and the merriment on the forecastle is to diminish by half.'

  'I would have sworn that was an answer to my note,' he said, returning to his disastrous game.

  In fact the answer did not appear until well on in the next forenoon watch, when he came from the masthead in a long controlled glide down the maintopgallant backstay. The Diane had been on her cruising-ground for some hours now, and each mast had its lookout; in this clear weather they could survey seven hundred square miles of sea, but so far they had seen nothing at all, not so much as a proa or a drifting palm-trunk: a pale cobalt dome of sky, darkening imperceptibly as it came down to the sharp horizon and the true azure of the great disk of ocean—two pure ideal forms, and the ship between them, minute, real, and incongruous.

  'Sir, there is a note for you in your cabin, if you please,' said Fleming.

  'Thank you, Mr Fleming,' said Jack. 'Pray let me have it, together with my sextant.'

  While they were coming he looked at the log-board: between four and five knots with this rather stronger breeze, just one point free. 'Very little leeway, Mr Warren,' he observed.

  'Almost none at all, sir,' said the master. 'I paid particular attention each time the log was heaved.'

  The note and the sextant came. He slipped the paper into his pocket, stepped over to the starboard hances and brought the sun down to the horizon. The corrections for the time short of noon were clear in his mind; he applied them to his reading and nodded. The Diane was certainly on her true parallel.

  He found Stephen in the cabin, working over a musical score by the strong light of the stern-window. 'We are on our true parallel,' he said, and opened the note. 'Wel
l, I'm for ever damned alive,' he said in quite a surprised tone of voice and passed the unfolded sheet.

  Mr Fox presents his compliments to Captain Aubrey, whose invitation to dinner on Wednesday he has received but which pressure of work prevents him and his suite from accepting.

  'Well,' said Stephen, 'I had not thought a man of his education could be so gross. Tell me, brother, were you very severe?'

  'Not at all. The only time I spoke a little sharp was when he asked me whether I knew I was addressing His Majesty's direct representative, and I told him that though he might represent the King by land, I represented him by sea—that under God I was sole captain aboard.'

  A pause. 'Killick,' called Jack. 'Killick, there.'

  'Now what?' cried Killick with real indignation. He was wearing a frock and gloves that shed powdered chalk at every movement; and there was a long pause before he added the necessary 'Sir.'

  'Killick has been polishing the silver,' observed Stephen.

  'And only half done and my mates always needing an eye on them, heavy handed hoaves liable to scratch it something cruel.' Killick took a passionate delight in silver and for this dinner he had brought out the rarely-used best service, much tarnished in spite of its green baize.

  'Pass the word for Mr Fielding,' said Jack: and to his first lieutenant, 'Mr Fielding, pray sit down. I have a damned awkward request to make of you and the gun-room. The position is this: I had invited the envoy and his colleagues to dine with me tomorrow: foolishly I took their consent for granted and here is poor Killick in a cloud of powdered chalk, while my cook is working double tides at two or even three courses and God knows how many removes. But this morning I find that I had counted my geese without laying their eggs—that I had killed my geese—that is to say, pressure of work prevents Mr Fox and his people from dining with me tomorrow. So what I should like to do, with your permission, is to invade the gun-room and feast among friends. It is a damned left-handed kind of an invitation, yet . . .'